Regrets and Resets
by Jessica Simpson-Bourget
Summary: An additional scene for "A Ditch In Time", in which Sam tells Diane what he wanted to say before she stopped him from saying something stupid.


Sam was very grateful that he hadn't said what he'd set out to say to Diane earlier that evening. She was wise to stop him before he ruined the moment, but now, having had the rest of the night to sit with what he was trying to express, he felt an urgent need to speak his peace to her.

Closing time came and he watched her tidy up the place. He liked this time of night, resetting the bar for a fresh start tomorrow. He always felt good quietly putting everything right again, and even better when Diane was there to help him do it. They had a nice workflow. She'd clear the tables and he'd wash the glasses. It was a pretty equitable arrangement, plus he got the benefit of seeing her move around the room. He loved to watch her navigate the tables and stray chairs, and when she bent over to wipe them down, he couldn't help but get an eyeful and smile to himself.

She could still get his pulse racing without any effort at all. Women would come and go, but Diane was… well, Diane was Diane. She was skinny and prissy and frustrating, and more often than not, downright goofy, but damned if she didn't make him crazy in the very best way.

She was making a last round sweeping the floor when Sam finished up the washing. He dried his hands on a clean towel and followed her over to the closet where she'd just stashed the broom.

"Hey Diane, you got a minute?" Why did he suddenly feel so nervous?

"Sure," she replied as she walked back to the bar to get her purse, "What can I do for you? Wait a minute, scratch that," she laughed, anticipating his traditional lewd response.

Sam grinned and relaxed a little.

"Listen, I just wanted to tell you something that's been on my mind since we talked earlier."

"Now I thought we were just going to leave that conversation where it was…"

"Yeah, I know, and you were right about my first instinct, but I've had some time to think, and I've just gotta get this off my chest. It won't ruin everything, I promise. At least, I hope it won't."

He was suddenly tense again, and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

"Anyway, just know that what I've got to say, I'm saying because I'm trying to make things better, not worse, and because it really needs to be said, okay?"

Diane took a deep breath, readying for another Sam Malone emotional faux pas, hoping that it wouldn't be a painful one. What he'd said earlier was so unexpectedly beautiful, so heartfelt and precious to her, she didn't want to replace the feelings his words gave her with something negative. Still, she could see it was important to him and knew she had to let him try.

"Okay, Sam," she acquiesced, her voice barely audible. She moved to the nearest barstool. Better to be sitting for this, she reasoned.

"Really?" Sam was surprised. He'd half thought she'd run screaming from the bar before allowing him to defile the earlier moment.

"Okay, I'm gonna go ahead and try to say this the way I mean it, so I hope you'll maybe understand the big picture here, even if I get the words wrong. Anyway, like I said earlier, I know I was a lousy boyfriend and that you deserved a lot better than what I had to give back then, but I did try. I tried because of you. I mean, a lot of women have come through this bar… through my life… and I never felt like I wanted to make an effort like I did with you.

"There were a whole bunch of years after I left baseball where I felt like life was a joke. A bad joke being played on me. I had it all… I had my _dream_ and I threw it all away because of my drinking. I was the laughing stock of the game toward the end, and the humiliation was just relentless. You don't forget that kind of thing, not even after you sober up and move on. I thought no one could ever understand what happened to me, you know, on the inside and I didn't want them to, so I just… kept them out. Just held them at arms length and pretended everything was great and fine by me when it wasn't. Even laughed about the whole thing when I felt like crying. I was alone among friends, basically, by my own choice. I guess I figured if I kept everyone at a distance, they'd never know what a failure I felt like and that way maybe I'd never really _be_ that failure. I was in hiding. Coach was the only one who could tell you even a little of what I was going through, and he didn't understand it himself.

"Then you came in the door and well, you weren't just beautiful, but you were smart and thoughtful, and you actually _cared_ about people. The way you looked out for Carla and Norm and Coach and even Cliff… I saw that. I saw everything, even if I didn't mention it, and I also saw what you did for me. Even though I was always hitting on you and razzing you and probably didn't deserve your help, you gave it to me right from the start. No one had really done much of that around here, but you did, and it brought us all closer together. I feel like I finally know these people who've been sitting around my bar all these years. They mean something to me because I know them in a way I never did before you bothered to get them to open up and really talk about themselves. And you didn't do it to win points for yourself or to fit in, but because you're you and that's just the kind of person you are. You changed us. You changed Cheers and you changed me. You made me want to talk to someone and share a part of me I thought I'd locked up forever. I wanted to tell you everything. I wanted you to know me and care about me because for the first time in my life, I really wanted to know and care about someone else. You were the person who gave me that and you kept on giving.

"When we got together, boy I tell ya, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I can see that now like I couldn't then. I was _happy_. Like I was when I played in the bigs, only more deep down happy. But then I was scared too, because up until that point in my life, I'd managed to screw up everything that was important to me, aside from this place. My education, baseball, sobriety, relationship after relationship, all of it- it was like I couldn't allow myself to be a real success at anything, so I blew it up. I destroyed us too. Maybe because I was afraid I'd take you down with me… maybe I was just afraid of you figuring out what a mess I really was and walking out. I don't know... I was an idiot, but with your help, I got my sobriety back, and thank God I've still got Cheers. I'll probably never get you back, but I guess I can live with that too because I want you to be happy. No matter how hard I try, I might not be the guy who can get you there, so if Frasier is, I want him to do it, because you deserve it, Diane. Despite all the hell I put you through and all my smartass remarks, I'll always want the best for you, sweetheart."

Sam shuffled a little uncomfortably in place.

"So that's it. That's what I wanted to say before."

Diane was riveted to her barstool, speechless. Her eyes brimmed with hot tears, and her throat hurt from trying to choke them back. Her hand rested on her heart. She smiled weakly at Sam, her lips pressed together with unspoken emotion. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, still trying to process everything he'd said. Sam had managed to take all those good feelings from earlier and magnify them exponentially. What do you do when you hear everything you've ever wanted to hear from the only person you've ever wanted to hear it from, but at the wrong time? Her heart was full to bursting, and her head swam with wonderful possibility tempered only by her current relationship reality. She was overcome, but also knew that now it was her turn to shut up and not ruin the moment. How on earth could she adequately respond to that anyway?

Sam studied her expression closely, unable to discern her reaction. Her loss for words was completely unprecedented, and scared him a little.

"You okay?"

Diane nodded and stood in silence. Without another word, she walked over to Sam, kissed him on the cheek and turned to go. Sam exhaled, relieved she wasn't angry with him. The warmth of her lips on his skin and of her hand on his heart lingered well after she'd walked away. He touched the place where her fingers had been, trying to hold the moment a little longer.

His eyes followed her to the door. She turned back for a long parting look, full of equal parts joy, relief and yearning, and a single tear escaped down her cheek. He felt his heart flutter with new hope. It was gonna be alright. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow or the immediate future, but everything was gonna be alright.


End file.
